


Tango

by SmugCake



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancing, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmugCake/pseuds/SmugCake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to his bad grades Eren Jaeger is forced to quit his beloved baseball team and join dance class instead. However things take a turn when Eren meets the national tango champion and college senior Levi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tango

**Author's Note:**

> Basically the entire fandom went completely mad with the El Tango de Roxanne video. My mind actually started playing with the idea and then this happened, I hope you will enjoy this little something because Levi would look good as a tango dancer. (Not to mention that Juan Segui looks oddly like him.. oh my)
> 
> It would be wonderful if you would give me any kind of feedback, whether this should be ongoing or not. Just to be sure whether people would be interested in such an AU since they are LOADS of them out there. So some commentary would be much appreciated!

I’m not anything special. When it comes to sports I’d say I’m doing OK, but my sister Mikasa has always been more of an athlete. And if you’d look at brains, my friend Armin surpassed me with flying colours. I’m just one of those average high school students who just don’t outshine in any form of activity, schoolwise.

But if I had to pick _something_ , I guess you could say I’m a OK baseball player for a mediocre school team. Nothing really worth mentioning, though.

“So you’re going to see the next game?” Armin asked as we sat down for lunch that one day, I knew he was talking about the next homecoming game our school would play. The Titans had been on a winning streak this season and the entire team was practically labelled the school hero. Everyone admired them entirely

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, our game is the next day and seeing they’re going to easily win this one I’d rather spend more time at the extra practice.”

Armin was about to say something, but when his gaze averted he fell silent. I followed his line of sight and looked directly into Mikasa’s eyes. Oh God.

“What?!”

“I thought you told mom you’re going to focus on studying for your midterms instead of those extra practices.”

At that point I just wanted to hit myself in the head for mentioning those extra practices to Mikasa. I turned towards Armin in desperate need for help, but he attacked his dinner as if it was the most important thing in the world. I groaned. “I _know_ but if we make it to the top ten this year Coach Mike might actually be able to buy us new bats and such!”

But Mikasa was hard to please, staring me down as she twirled her spaghetti lunch around her fork. Sometimes it felt as if I had two mothers. Mikasa, unlike me, was the family favourite. Adopted into my family at the age of six, and basically everything I’m not. She’s the star athlete at the boxing, soccer and martial arts club – second best in class right after Armin.

You could say I was jealous of her, in a way, but I wasn’t as vain to show it too much.

“If we win this game, I swear, I’m going to study my ass off!”

I waited for some sort of nod of acceptance, and when I got it I grinned widely. At least it was something.

“Just tell mom, alright?  She’ll slaughter you when she finds out by herself.”

With a sheepish grin and a swift promise Mikasa got back to lunch, she hardly spoke up – only doing so if it was absolutely necessary. That made her.. terrible to approach at times.

But not for a certain someone, who burst into the cafeteria with his entire team following behind him like a pack of puppies. Jean Kirschstein, Trost High’s quarterback and notorious playboy, made it to our table. It wasn’t a surprise, yes he was popular and yes we obviously weren’t. But there was a certain thing, or rather someone who’d captured Jean’s interest.

“So, Mikasa.” He said, pulling a chair back. He momentarily waved towards his team, in that way telling them to scurry to their table at the other side of the cafeteria. Once that was settled he focused fully on Mikasa, who threw me a desperate look. But this time, I pulled the same trick Armin pulled on me earlier.

She sighed. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I just wanted to remind you on the deal we made. And to tell you that I’m wearing a red tie to the dance, just for your information.”

For a moment I could swear I could hear the iron fork crack. Mikasa squeezed it in her fist, clearly annoyed but in no way trying to talk back at him.

“…Fine, whatever.”

“And you can bet your sweet ass I’m going to ask you for a dance. So you better brush up on some moves.” It took a lot nerves to act like that around her, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mikasa was a fan of the Trost Titans and wanted our school to win, she would’ve given him a punch in the face for sure.

“Anyway, I’ll see you after the game.” He threw her one of his charming smirks before he pushed himself on his feet.

“What’s that asshole’s problem..”

“Well .. you kinda made that bet y’know?” I remembered her, the past season the Trost Titans had been slacking off grandly.. And with Jean’s various attempts to ask Mikasa out they had bet on the team winning the game this time, if so Mikasa would go to homecoming dance with Jean without further conflict.

Things were turning rather gloomy for her with all the success.

“I know that!” She spat back, sinking deeper in her chair.

“Just bear with it Mikasa, I mean… He might just be a whole different person when alone!” Armin tried. Despite wanting to cheer Mikasa up, I found it rather funny that at least she had something to worry about.

After lunch it was about time we got back to class. Upper-Intermediate English, at least that meant another hour of sleep. The day passed as usually and I was glad to be able to go home again, but once I passed principal Pixis’ office he called me in all of a sudden. Like I didn’t go there often enough already.

As always he acted very kind, up until a certain moment where he would cut right to the case and verbally beat me to pulp.

Yes, my grades had been failing tremendously, he had pointed that out ever since the start of the year. And like I usually did I assured him I would, once again, try harder.

But this time he wasn’t buying it the way I wanted him to. “Eren listen to me, you have no such thing as discipline. And if you don’t focus yourself on your studies I’m afraid I need to take on some desperate measures.”

“Like what, sir?” I asked, my hands fidgeting with the rim of my shirt. I had a gut feeling I wasn’t going to like what he would say next, and I was right about it.

“I’m pulling you back from the team.”

In eight syllables Dot Pixis, Trost’s principal, had ruined my entire life. I couldn’t really remember how hard I’d been yelling at him, nearly pleading him I would die if I couldn’t partake in the game. But there was no way around it, his words were final.

“Let this be a lesson to you Eren, and let me do you a little favour instead.”

In blind anger I followed Mr Pixis through the school, the fighter spirit I had early was nowhere to be found now. All my mind was processing now was that I wouldn’t be playing any games for a long time. Just that _one_ little thing that made school worthwhile for me was roughly taken away from me.

It was only when Mr Pixis stopped in his tracks that I noticed we’d gotten to the gym. I momentarily feared he would take me to coach Mike to get me taken off the list, but we took a completely different direction.

“Listen carefully Eren, in order to teach you how to discipline yourself you will have to be disciplined first – that’s basically how it works.” I couldn’t stand it whenever Mr Pixis would say something serious he would look so smitten over his own words.

“Eh, I’m really sorry sir but I don’t think I understand.” I tried, despite my confusion feeling rather calm. It still needed to somewhat sink in.

“You’ll find out soon enough, but I’m not the one who’ll do the explaining.”

I raised a brow, my eyes taking in as much of the route as they could. After what seemed about five minutes more Pixis stopped once again, stepping aside from a door that said;

_\- Dance studio. -_

I squinted my eyes, closing them.. only to open them again and see the exact same words appear. “Sir, I don’t think I-“

“Just tell Mr Smith you’ll be joining them for the next semester.” Pixis cut me off without remorse. A gentle push to the back helped me make the first few steps forward. I hesitated. Dancing? That wasn’t something I would ever consider doing for fun, despite from the dancing at parties, but the words _Dance studio_ frightened me.

But I had no other choice, Pixis was a tough one and didn’t go back on his words. If I wouldn’t participate into this, I would forever lose my place in the baseball team and that was the last thing I wanted.

“Go on boy, you can’t make your new team wait.”

There was it again, the joking I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t fight it how much I desired to, though, and finally took the courage to step inside.

I entered the dance studio, walking in medias res of things and felt sorry for it. The instructor, Erwin Smith, who I had only seen a few times before in my entire school career, stepped towards me with a securing smile.

“Can I help you?”

“I eh, I’m here for the dance classes?”

Mr Smith looked at me for a few, then patted a hand to my shoulder. “Eren Jaeger, isn’t it?” I nodded. “Well, there’s always room for more, so feel free to join the rest.”

I scoffed, _“Feel free? Well if I could I would turn around and run for it..”_ I thought to myself, yet joined the rest anyway. I didn’t want to look at the others, yet still did. To no surprise I saw one of my classmates from last year, Christa Lenz, among the group. She smiled slightly at me, with an edge of discomfort on my behalf.

Apparently I hadn’t walked in in the middle of things, to my relief. But I had interfered in a rather important announcement;

“Without further ado, I want you all to meet someone very special.” Mr Smith said. “Since this semester we’ll be focusing on Latin dances, I have invited a very, very special guest who will be guiding you.”

The door opened again, this time allowing an unknown face to enter. The man was small, hardly any older than us I guessed. And while you would think that people his size were petite he was actually buffed up, his lean torso wrapped by a wife beater.. yet it defined every muscle it hid underneath.

Around the others there was some whispering going on, excited whispering as the guy walked towards Mr Smith.

“This is fourth time national champion of Latin dances, Levi.” Mr Smith rested a hand on his shoulder, as Levi let his gaze wander along us students. I didn’t really know what to think of him, he didn’t look anything special

For a moment I could feel his eyes pause on me for a few seconds, his icy grey orbs beaming at me with the utmost disgust, or that was how it made me feel.

Though the others around me seemed to know him, staring at him as if he was some sort of idol. .. Well maybe in this world he was.

“To get you all a little warmed up he’s going to amaze you with a special demonstration of what he has to offer you. If all of you’d just go sit on the side.”

Mr Smith ushered us away to grant some space. I hid myself behind a group of girls who were furiously discussing how wonderful it was to see him perform just for them. I still couldn’t quite share their feelings.

What I did wonder was how this guy was going to dance without a partner. Mr Smith could’ve asked a pair, it didn’t make any sense. Until the music started to play and Mr Smith strode towards Levi, their height difference was comical to a degree that Levi looked like a middle school kid compared to Mr Smith. That mere thought brightened my mood.

“I want you to pay close attention.” He called just loud enough to get over the volume of the music. “See if you can find certain techniques, alright?”

Without even waiting for any answer from us and to our surprise, they started dancing. With my mere knowledge of dancing, which didn’t go any further than the things I saw on MTV, I caught myself staring rather intensely at the scene that evolved right in front of me.

Their start was rather usual, it was when at just the right timing Mr Smith launched Levi into the air – his legs swinging right behind them – that I momentarily forgot how to breathe. 

The way the pair joined forces, collided in a sensual way that made the girls around me fall silent and the guys both amazed and slightly uncomfortable. The music was upbeat, _spicy_ you could say.. and it totally describe the chemistry between Erwin Smith and Levi the professional Latin dancer.

I had never felt so aware of myself, or rather about how my body surged under some kind or electrical power wave. I watched him; spinning, clutching at Mr Smith’s shoulders before his legs swept up under him – high into the air into a straight line. I felt hypnotised by his jolting hips, fluent but surprisingly fast.

Levi’s controlled, tight movements blended perfectly with the music. His eyes, who had looked cold and stern just a little while ago, were slanted – as if he was in some sort of trance. This was _his_ moment, all his own. And he had me under his spell.

I didn’t even realized it was over until Mr Smith pulled Levi out of his final pose – a split.

At that very moment I remained stunned, and I knew one thing for sure. If I was going to dance it had to be with him. 


End file.
